" "Humph!" ejaculated the carpenter. ‘If it is that your men there are going to arrest us, then why do they not do so?’ ‘Left to myself, I’d let them,’ he replied grimly. I am no use for a clerk, because I do not understand shorthand. He could neither stifle nor deaden that. His conscience, however, was entirely another affair. Will you let your servant call me a hansom,” she continued, opening the door before he could reach her side. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. "She wouldn't let me go.
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